Under the Big Dipper

he could find no words. Instinctively she saw what was the matter with him, and with womanly quickness she changed the subject.

“Have you heard from papa?”

The important question brought Morton to himself again. He seized it gratefully. “Only the message I transmitted to you advising your early departure for Weimar—nothing more. I have arranged that Mr. Tyler accompany you to Weimar.”

“Ah, yes—I forgot; you are leaving us.” The rose in her cheeks had faded slowly and left the color of the lily behind, imparting a new beauty to the sweetness of the childlike face. Her long dark lashes had drooped and were quivering on the satin of her skin. He dared not look longer or he would forget himself. And time was pressing. He must be gone; but he must say just one word more before he left her.

“Comtesse, I am come to remind you of your

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